


Copping A Feel

by UrsulaAngstrom



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrsulaAngstrom/pseuds/UrsulaAngstrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A post-Sweet Revenge story.  Mutual Desire & Flirtation.  Slash Fic.  Enjoy!<br/>Story was originally written under the pen name Larkspur for a friend of mine years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Copping A Feel

Copping A Feel  
(An S/H post-Sweet Revenge story)

by Ursula Angstrom

 

Starsky was so doped up on painkillers he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Sleep," Hutch crooned as he gently stroked the dark brown curls that topped his partner's scowling face like a fleecy crown.

"Don't wanna sleep," Starsky grumbled. "All I do is sleep."

"The body heals faster when it's asleep, Starsk."

"Not this body."

"Every body," Hutch insisted as Starsky petulantly kicked the covers off his feet again.

"The fastest way to get better is to quit fighting the urge to sleep, Gordo."

"But I'm turning into Rip Van Winkle, Hutch."

"Hardly," the weary blond assured him with an affectionate chuckle.

Raking his fingers through Starsky's luxuriant brown curls with one hand as he tenderly caressed Starsky's prickly cheek with the other, Hutch smiled at his grumpy pal and said, " Your hair's still brown, not white, Starsk. And your face is covered with stubble, not a long beard that's touching your knees."

"So?" Starsky grumbled. "Every time I wake up I feel like I've been asleep for a hundred years. Five minutes later I wanna take another nap. I'm sleeping my life away, Hutch."

"You are not," Hutch scolded him; face stern, eyes haunted. "You're sleeping to get your life back, Starsky."

"But I have no energy," Starsky sighed.

"Sure you do, Tigger. It's just being diverted into the parts of your body that were injured so you can heal. You'll get your bounce back when you're better, Starsk. I promise."

Sighing heavily, a dejected Starsky said, "You better be right about that, Rabbit. Because I'm tired of feeling like Eeyore."

Starsky was almost asleep, so Hutch kept stroking those soft, sexy curls as he let Starsky ramble.   
Starsky frequently talked himself to sleep when they were on a stakeout in the Torino or languishing in front of the TV late at night. Hutch found the habit endearing because Starsky's child-like verve turned moments like that into pure magic. As soon as Starsky began to yawn and babble, reality became surreal for Hutch.

The man's in a hospital bed, Hutch marveled, but once again Starsky's innate magic made it seem like they were two kids whispering to each other during a Saturday night sleepover. 

Only you can make me feel like we're two eight-year-olds on a backyard campout, Starsk. There's no tent, no sleeping bags, no flashlight, or comic books; but I can see the moonlight in your eyes, Babe, glazed though they are.

Enchanted anew, Hutch smiled at his exhausted partner and kept the comforting patter going.  
To Starsky the sound of his partner's dulcet voice was as soothing as gentle rain falling on a roof…

Curious and concerned, Hutch asked his weary pal, "Why do you feel like Eeyore, Starsk?"

Starsky was Tigger personified. It worried Hutch that Starsky was suddenly identifying with the sweet but gloomy donkey in those wonderful stories by A.A. Milne.

"I feel sluggish, I'm depressed, and it feels like my tail fell off again," Starsky rambled.

"What?" Hutch chuckled.

Starsky's loopy smile was adorable.

"My butt's numb," Starsky elaborated as his eyes fluttered open again.

"Your butt's numb?" Hutch chuckled.

"Yeah. I can't feel my ass."

"Well, I can," Hutch quipped, copping a memorable feel. Laughing mischievously, Hutch slid his right hand underneath Starsky's covers, cupped one firm, ripe butt cheek and gave it a capricious squeeze.

Unable to resist the urge to tease his goofy partner, Hutch said, "Your butt's still there, Starsky. Want me to pin a bow on it?" 

Eeyore always had a pink bow tied to the end of his tail.

Starsky's sleepy snort gave Hutchinson chills, because the dreamy smile on Starsky's face was accompanied by a startling revelation.

"Whatever floats your boat, Partner. I've been wanting you to nail my ass for years."

Hutch knew what Starsky was thinking about--the time Eeyore's tail fell off in that cartoon and they nailed it back on. Only Starsky's dirty mind would see sodomy in that scene and use it to torment him.

Grinning wickedly, Starsky said, "You bring the pin and I'll provide the blindfold. We'll pretend it's Cupid's birthday and play Pin the Tail on the Donkey. If you pin the tail on old Eeyore, I'll let you pin me to the bed and have your way with me, Blintz. How does that idea grab ya?" 

"It grabs me by the balls," Hutch groaned, aching for Starsky's touch.

"I can tell," Starsky murmured appreciatively, making greedy come hither gestures with his left hand as he admired his partner's VERY noticeable erection.

Hutch was hurtin', but he was also conflicted. 

"Come here so I can grab you, Blintz."

Given the size of Hutch's erection, Starsky didn't think his bashful blond had enough blood north of his body's equator to blush so demurely, but he did. Charmed, Starsky laughed when Hutch said, "Starsky! We're in a hospital!"

Chuckling lustily, Starsky said, " No shit, Sherlock. That's why it smells like antiseptic."

Eager to feel his partner's hand on his hard, aching flesh, Hutch's body obeyed even though his mind continued to object. Mesmerized by those seductive cobalt blue eyes, Hutch started walking towards Starsky's bed like he was spellbound.

"What if somebody walks in?"

"I'll pretend to be delirious."

Starsky would—without hestitation.

"You're insane!" Hutch whispered, heart soaring like an unfettered eagle.

"That's why I got to play the lunatic when we went undercover at the Cabrillo State asylum," Starsky gloated.

Hutch's sarcastic snort turned into a lusty laugh as he stalked his handsome partner like a horny cougar on the prowl.

"Is that when you started having all these Pin the Tail on the Donkey fantasies? When they were jabbing you in the butt with needles full of drugs?"

"No," Starsky growled; scowling at Hutch when he noticed how reticent his partner suddenly became.

Hutch wanted him bad but his doubts were greater than his desire at the moment. 

"You were the one who mentioned Eeyore first," Starsky reminded Hutch. "Don't play innocent now and tell me you weren't free-associating too when you copped that impulsive feel." Melting Hutch with that killer leer, Starsky said, "You've been wanting to nail me too, haven't you Blintz?"

Starsky knew it was true. Hutch couldn't have denied it if he wanted to. His dick was as hard as a stone and oozing pre-cum.

The wet spot on his beige corduroys was clearly visible. Savoring the sight and the smell, Starsky inhaled lasciviously and said, "Love that third eye, Cyclops. Can Python see me better now?"

"Stop it!" Hutch pleaded, voice as hot as dragon's breath as his mind reeled with longing. 

Eyes closed, fists clenched, Hutch stood transfixed in the middle of the room. He was half way to Starsky's bed when he stopped moving. Propriety and self-doubt whipping him like an invisible cat o' nine tails. 

"I will if you will, Blintz." 

Starsky had never seen those eyes open so fast or that jaw drop so far! Wide-eyed with incredulity, Hutch gaped at his partner in boggle-eyed astonishment.

Because Hutch suddenly realized that it wasn't the drugs talking. The morphine drip wasn't making Starsky horny. Starsky had wanted him for years!

"Ohmigod!" Hutch gasped. "You've been dropping hints for years."

Starsky's rueful snort turned into an affectionate chuckle.

"Should have dropped an anvil on your head, Super Genius. You are one dumb coyote."

"Quit mixing metaphors!" Hutch babbled incoherently.

Starsky had never seen his partner so flustered. Laughing mischievously, Starsky said, "Those were analogies, Mr. Thesaurus."

"I know!" Hutch snapped, feeling like he was unraveling from within.

Starsky didn't nickname him Blintz because he ate blintzes as often as Starsky ate burritos.  
Blintz was Starsky's secret pet name for his cock! 

Because it was a long, cylindrical golden object that contained a tasty hot white filling too…

"When did you get so damn subtle?" Hutch roared.

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Starsky shrugged and said, "I didn't think it would take you this long to decipher my code. Next time I get a Cracker Jack idea I'll make sure I give you the secret decoder ring first."

Hutch knew it was true, but the thought was mind-boggling. Starsky wanted to suck his dick!

Honored and amazed, Hutch stammered, "How long…" then his voice got lodged in his throat.

Laughing like a satyr, Starsky admired his partner's rampant erection and said, "Looks like a dirk to me."

Hutchinson laughed.

"How many names do you plan on giving my penis, Starsk?"

"As many as I can think of."

"Do you plan on giving it anything else?"

"What does it want?"

"Your total and unconditional surrender." 

"Will all my lovin' suffice?"

"It's a start." Hutch said, as he finally made it to the bed.   
____________________________________________________________________________________

 

The End


End file.
